Daisies and Chimneys
by LadyLizaElliott
Summary: Oneshot. Cursed to be practically perfect, senseless, heartless, trapped within her duty, the day finally comes when the spell is broken. He always thought that she was real, but she's divine. MaryBert.


Disclaimer: I do not own _Mary Poppins_, the original characters are by P.L Travers and adapted by Disney's film. I play more towards the movie version, though I read the original book. This was originally going to be an epic of a Poppins fic but finding little to no time, I summed it up in this dialogue scene, which would initially be the turning point of the whole story. I hope it makes sense, if not I will add as to _how_ Mary knew all of these facts about her mother (that is something that couldn't make it into this scene without distracting from the exchange at hand). Anyway, thanks for reading! R/Review!

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It was another English shower that was the cause of Bert's slipping salary. He had worked so tirelessly on that chimney, than the silly rain began and threatened to soak him through as he tried to work. Ultimately, it was a losing battle. He tied up his brooms and cautiously slipped down the ladder. The owner was waiting for him. He was paid in half for his services, but was confirmed another appointment when the rains stopped. Bert took the rag from his half-dry pocket and wiped the now sticking ash off of his face. He looked into the sky. It was curiously green.

He reached number 27 Albery Drive and walked in the door. One of his mates called from up the stairs. The landlady stood, tilted on her hips and opened one of her greedy palms up towards him. Bert was left with nothing at the end of the day. He was soaked to the skin, cold and moody. He never thought there would be a more miserable day than this. He climbed the stairs to his room. He set down his brooms on the floor, removed his jacket and stood in front of the small fireplace against the wall. There were only three logs left and barely an ember glowed. It was so cold. Bert sat down on his ill made, rickety bed. It shrilled with pain as he rested his weight on it. He listened to the whispering voices of the rain, which seemed to speak teasing words as they struck the roof.

Bert rested his head. He gazed up at his ceiling, as he had done so often before; contemplating his state and his more pleasant dreams. The sound of the rain was so melancholy, he thought. Than again, his dismal room and equally dismal clothes were as well. How he wished…just for a moment, he could have a warm house to come home to, and the lovely, warm arms of the woman he loves embracing him at the door…it was too lovely to be true.

No, he thought. Save it for a rainy day…

He looked out the window, feeling lonelier with every drop that fell.

Bert was about to sleep, feeling the sensation that a dream was to come upon him when a cry issued from the floor below. He rose on his bed, his eyes squinted and his ears alert. There was a ruckus; almost a drumbeat of footsteps climbing the stairs. Someone was rushing up the stairs. A voice called out. The voice was faint at first, but Bert could hear:

"Bert!" the voice cried. _"Bert!"_  
Suddenly the source of the footsteps was revealed, the door to his room swung open. The hinges screamed on their frames and the door was propelled against the wall by the weight of the person's arm. Bert almost lost his breath when he saw the person's face.

It was Mary. She was standing in the doorway, but in such a state that Bert had never seen before. She was soaking wet, her jaw chattering and her breath heavy. Her hair was unbounded, stuck to her neck and shoulders from the rain. But more than anything else, it was the look in her eyes that made Bert tremble. She looked as if she had been crying. Mary Poppins had never cried. She stood weakly, her arms slipping from the sides of the doorframe, as if she were slowly being defeated by her own fatigue. Mary did not speak at first. She was staring at him, searching through her mind for words. Bert gathered his thoughts and without a moment for though, rushed over to her.

"Mary! What happened?" Bert said, taking hold of her shoulders, feeling his fingers become warmer as soon as he touched her. She said nothing, only fell into his arms. She started crying again. Bert's mind raced; what on earth could have happened to cause such a reaction? He searched through his memory, sure that he had never before in their entire life together had he ever seen her so sad. But he did not know what cause her tears, or even if they were sad altogether.

Suddenly, she exited his arms and brought her arms around his shoulders. She leaned in her face and closed her eyes as she brought her lips to his face. Bert's eye grew so wide, and a feeling that had sat dormant in his heart was brought forth so suddenly. She pressed into him and kissed his lips.

Bert felt as if he had been struck in the back of the head with a log. His mind grew blurred and he lost touch of his own self, he lost himself to the sweet taste of her lips. But he broke away, flabbergasted, forcing himself to somehow find reason in this. Reason always brought him back to reality.

"Mary!" He cried, pushing her out of his arms and looking into her eyes. "What was that for? When did this happen-

"Oh so much has happened Bert!" Her ringing voice cried. "But Bert, look at me!"

"I am looking at you and you're not too pretty of a sight, not like you always are!"

"No Bert," She paused. She took his face into her hands. "Look into my eyes. Look at my skin, look at my hands!" She cried.

Her hands were scratched and dripped with blood. Bert had never felt more frightened and confused in his life.

"I'm bleeding…" She whispered. "I'm crying, I'm in love and I know it." She said, looking into his eyes.

"What are you talking about Mary?" He said slowly.

"I am human." She cried. "I can _feel_."

"What do you mean you're human? You've always been haven't you—

"No, Bert. Why do you think I could do those things I can do?" She said. "Couldn't you see I was nothing more than a spirit, an answer to a child's sadness, I was not my own. I could not express my innermost hopes, my deepest desires, it's as if I've been possessed with this force, I could never tell you what I truly felt…never tell anyone"

"So you're saying…" Bert said, slipping backwards towards his bed. "You weren't…and you are now?"

"I was cursed." Mary cried, a resolution seeping into her tones. "Cursed since my mother was born, cursed to be practically perfect, senseless, heartless, trapped within my duty. My mother was cursed, she bore me and died from it, I was left to live this way, live this awful, awful life!" She cried, tears falling down her cheeks. "But now…now my love" She said walking towards him with her hands extended. "Now my love I am free!" She said. Bert had found a seat upon his bed and Mary went to him and fell to her knees. She wept joyfully on his lap and raised her eyes to him.

"Wait, but _how_? How did this happen?"

"I found it, I found the heirloom that kept me trapped. I found it and now I've rid of it, left it sinking in the mud of the Thames!" She laughed. Bert was suddenly intoxicated…he had never heard Mary laugh before! Her laughter was so beautiful, beyond words to describe.

"Oh Mary, I'm going to get a doctor-

"Fetch one!" She laughed. "No magic can cure this feeling!" She shouted, laughing so hard she curled onto the floor in a heap. Bert stood by the door, staring back at her. It was so unlike her, so frightening that he could barely believe what she was telling him. Every sense told him that reality had left him.

"I would never lie to you Bert." Mary said. "Please?" She called. Bert looked back at her on the floor. She lied invitingly, so coy and yet there was something different in her eyes. Slowly, she rose from the floor, her long hair tumbling across her neck as she brushed it away from her face. She was so lovely, so beautiful the way her hair curled across her shoulders like that…Bert thought. The rain suddenly didn't sound anymore, he was too engaged by the look on her face. She looked peaceful, and for the first time in her life, happy.

"What does this mean?" Bert whispered. Mary rose to her feet and walked to him, standing inches from him. She took his hand and placed it on her cheek. She was smiling.

"That I'm yours." She whispered. Bert's heart began to race…his palms were shaking.

For the first time, Bert threw his propriety out of his mind and wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her. Their breath hissed, their arms fastened around each other. Bert was lost in his hazy world of love, and thought: never before had he had such a wonderful day.

Moments thereafter he soon realized why she was soaking wet. Seems he wouldn't hear opinions from that green parrot anymore.

_I found it, I found the heirloom that kept me trapped._


End file.
